#might write a drabble about this idk.

[hugh-lauries-bald-spot]

thinking about the reality of house and wilson actually confessing to one another, in whatever form that takes.

they could fuck on the desk 2 seconds after the confession, but in my mind intimacy would take a long time after that. house seems comfortable liking men, but wilson is another story. in his mind, having sex once doesn't make it real, but initiating it in a domestic setting makes it something more than impulsive. it would take wilson a while to get used to dating house. even cuddling or holding hands would be hard for him to come to terms with. it would mean conceding to the fact he loves a man. he's not ready for an admission like that.

house is a whole other problem though. he wants this all so badly. he's wanted it so badly for decades. he's known he wants it, this isn't some back-of-his-mind subconscious wish, he's been fully aware of it since it began. he can tell wilson isn't ready, but neither of them are going to deny the attraction because they both want to move forward with it. he wants to rush it, he wants to poke fun at wilson for taking it slow, for not knowing sooner, but that could mean alienating him. he's already risked everything by kissing him once, he doesnt want to hurt him with something he himself has struggled with. he could potentially lose something hes craved so strongly that it's eaten him alive for years.

so he isn't going to start anything that doesn't happen naturally, and wilson isn't going to dig his grave of "forbidden desire" any deeper. they're going to need another spur of the moment surge of emotion to get them to the next step.

[bruisedboys]

eddie only lets you touch his hair. and if someone else does he gets upset I feel.

fr!! hes very particular about who gets to touch his hair. he’s such a dork I love him

fem!reader

eddie finds a knot in his hair at hellfire, and it’s driving him crazy but he can’t get it out himself for the life of him. dustin notices his aggravation and is like dude here. let me and eddie yells at him and slaps his hands away. but then when you come to pick him up from club, he’s pushing himself into your chest, arms around your waist, all whiny. babe :( I got a knot again :(( will you get it out for me?

unfortunately dustin and co are also leaving club and see the whole thing. you getting eddie to sit on a bench as you stand over him. you running your fingers through eddie’s hair gentle as ever, working at the stubborn knot until it’s gone. eddie practically melting under your touch. the sticky, sappy thank you kiss he gives you.

poor eddie doesn’t hear the end of it. complaints of that’s disgusting, dude and why’d you let her touch your hair and not me? it’s childish, eddie thinks. they’re just jealous they don’t have a pretty girl to get knots out of their hair like he does.

[gildedtrashcan]

To them she was PRO-02M1G, the first subject to survive the cloning and splicing process. She was sick and weak from the beginning, her immune system was non existent so they kept her inside.

She told us that the day they researchers gave us to her was the best day of her life, she had a reason to wake up. Despite the medicine and the things they told her, she knew within that she was never leaving the facility.

She experienced the world through a screen, swears she could almost smell the salty ocean, feel the rain on her skin and the breeze through her fur. She always told us we were made to fly and how she wished that one day we could fly together.

She grew weaker and was taken away.

I hope wherever she is, she's flying. At least we can fly for her.

[kentopedia]

meeting levi in his office before a mission, and kissing him all over his face with lipstick on. but then he gets distracted & is running late, so forgets to wipe off the lipstick stains before leaving with his squad <3

[sunshades]

i shouldn't be allowed to like a ship i'm fucking drafting a faux firemblem game for these bitches oh my god.

[mikan-angiekinnie-thoughts]

Is there a duo name for Mumbo and Lizzie, or have they not interacted enough for one to form? And if not, what are the proposals for their name?

[thaliagrayce]

looking @ the jasico bingo challenge..... im not in a jasico mood but jasico nation is so nice to write for........ its been so long since ive written them.....

[toxicrevolver]

Billy is an “anything is breakfast food as long as its breakfast time” kind if person.

Steve is a “breakfast time is for stereotypical breakfast food and nothing else” type of person.

Have a little drabble bcs I have 5 minutes of confidence in my writing.

Also. Imma have to blame @prettyboybillyhargrove for making me wanna write something cute and fluffy and domestic after giving me nothing but angst posts yesterday.

Billy wakes Steve up at like 6:30 in the morning because he wants Steve’s homemade spaghetti for breakfast after his morning run. Steve grumbles awake and looks at Billy with the cutest glare. “Spaghetti isn’t breakfast food Billy. Why don’t you eat cereal or an omelette or something normal for breakfast?” Steve questions. Billy just looks at Steve with his best puppy dogs eyes because he knows the art of getting his way with the one and only Steve Harrington. Steve ends up folding under the pressure of Billy’s gaze and grumbles fully awake. He slides out of bed and stumbles to get ready, meanwhile Billy silently cheers to himself while he puts on his running shoes and heads for the door.

It’s now almost 8 am and the entire house smells like tomato sauce. Billy walks through the front door and immediately beelines for the kitchen so he can praise Steve for his amazing cooking. Steve whips around and glares at Billy, a ladle held in his hand threateningly, “if you come near me with that sweaty nastiness and get sweat in my tomato sauce I will smother you in your sleep. Go take a shower, the spaghetti will be done when you get back”. Billy holds his hands up in surrender, a giant smile plastered on his face. He spins around and bolts to the master bath and takes the fastest shower he swears he has ever taken. No more than 10 minutes later Billy heads back to the kitchen where the wonderful aroma of spaghetti originates from. He pads over to Steve, landing a soft kiss on Steves shoulder before reaching into the cabinets for plates. “Thank you” Billy whispers in Steve’s ear, the smile never leaving his face. Steve blushes lightly, “its nothing really. I just hope you enjoy it,” Steve mumbles, embarrassment in his tone.

[notmoreflippingelves]

Krisnix - Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibilty AU, for the prompts, please? 😉🌹

"You do not suppose me capable of real feeling-- do you, Klavier? I will admit that I do not wear my heart upon my sleeve as you do, but you are wrong to assume that it does not beat and burn and long just as fiercely as your own does. I have known of Mr. Edgeworth's prior claim for months now, and for those months, I have thought of little else than Phoe--than Mr. Wright and the regard that I still hold for him. But the family needs my strength and my resolve--not least after your own romantic disappointment--so I remain ever the sense to counterbalance your own sensibility."

Klavier said nothing in reply but placed a steady hand on his brother's shoulder, until Kristoph covered the hand with one of his own.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 4-5 sentence drabble about it

[sinking-into-mist]

I got back to trying to write the Olli/Aleksi fic I mentioned last(?) week, and this is basically how it's going

me: this will be a cute fluffy sfw story

o & a: but what if we kissed... and our hands started to wander... and things got a little heated...

me: sure, a bit of that sounds great 👍 just don't get too carried away!

o & a: *kissing, groaning, neck biting, slight scratching, moaning*

me: okay that's enough! let's go back to the cute fluff and wrap up this fic

o & a: no 😊

me: i won't let you continue. go to bed boys.

o & a: okay!

me: ... wait, i meant, go to bed for some cuddles and sleeping!!

o & a: lol sure 😏 *undressing each other in between heated kisses*

me: i did not see that coming

[vivisols]

me when I come up with the greatest fucking idea ever but its too entwined in my oc nonsense to be applicable to a y/n fic

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

I will forever be mad about Matt and Mello dying.

Also just imagine how awesome it would have been if, when Light opens the door of the warehouse and wants to escape from the warehouse, Mello and Matt are standing there, outside of the warehouse and get shown/revealed the moment Light opens the door, aiming their guns at him, Mello wearing his leather coat with feathers as well as his sunglasses and taking a bite of his chocolate bar while Matt is calmly smoking a cigarette while also aiming at Light with his gun and then you hear Near in the background telling Light that it's over.

[ambersky0319]

I've never actively tried making a story a certain amount of words and I'm doing it for 15 stories for an English project suddenly and mad respect to people who do that regularly could not be me, I'm lucky if I set a minimum won't count goal for something and reach that

[vampireyuuta]

includes: gn! reader, aged up! megumi, edging, riding, kinda angsty, casual by chappell roan starts playing

inspired by this @samaraxmorgan post

you and megumi are not in a relationship. not a real one anyway. he’s always been so painfully emotionally stubborn. there was no way for you two to end up really in love.

of course, he doesn't hate you or anything—he just wants sex, something casual. he’s a pretty honest guy, so what reason do you have to believe it's anything more than just fwb?

well, there's actually three reasons.

1. the way he talks about you.

your friends know about you two's weird thing. (after one too many times of discovering not-very-well hidden hickeys on megumi, you kinda had to fess up). and, while megumi’s never been one for bragging on people, he brags heavily on you.

after particularly intense hookups, his usual dry texts to yuuji turn into way too detailed rambles about the happenings of the night prior. yuuji stopped questioning the why—i mean, he’s never been one for sharing many personal details, so why does he tell yuuji every single thing about your bedroom life?—and just grabbed a bowl of popcorn.

the pink haired boy does get a little suspicious when the texts that are essentially a smut retelling turn a little too romantic. words like beautiful and gorgeous, intimate, sweet—words megumi doesn't really use. he quirks his brow, but doesn't question it. you are beautiful after all.

2. how he acts with you and only with you.

megumi fushiguro does is put-together, smart, serious. megumi fushiguro is a lot of things, but he is not a mess. yet, when you're naked, kneeling between his legs, worshipping his cock like you’ll die without it: he is a mess. his pale skin is blushed pink all over like a perfect rose in bloom. he might cry from overstimulation? understimulation? he’s not sure, but it's a good feeling.

the way you lick his tip with one hand stroking his length and the other fondling his balls has him feeling something he can't quite place, something he’s never quite felt before.

“you're so pretty,” is all he’s thinking the entire time—well, other than “don't cum, don't cum, don't cum.”

he’s writhing and chewing down on his bottom lip until blood stains his pearly whites. however, for whatever goddamn reason, he begs you stop right before he cums. you feel him pulsating in your mouth, in your hand. you feel so accomplished everytime you make him cum—and you should. but, you're suddenly pulled away by your hair with a pitchy “stop!”

he blushes again, and goes silent for a moment as you hoarsely ask him why’d he stop. he finally picks his voice back up and mumbles something about how he doesn't want it to end yet. normally, megumi would find it humiliating to admit that he wants somebody to edge him, but something about you, something about how you treat him, makes him not so embarrassed. huh.

so it becomes a routine, one thay gets progressively more dirty each time you two see each other. it goes from pulling back when giving him head maybe once or twice before letting his spend fill your pretty mouth to having full control of when he cums. when he’s inside of your perfect hole, he’s begging for permission to cum, but you just tut and tell him to “wait a little longer, handsome.” (unfortunately for megumi, it's more than a little longer). again, giving someone else control over his body? what a degrading thing, he’d rather die than admit that's what he wants. but, with you, it just works.

when you're bouncing up and down on his cock as he whines—such an odd sound to hear from megumi’s mouth—for release or something, anything you’ll give him. you grin wickedly still, brushing some of the hair sticking to his forehead. “what's the magic words?” you croon teasingly, the s an accident, but you're too caught up in the way his dick slamming against each perfect spot deep inside you with each drop down of your hips to notice your slurred speech.

3. “i love you.”

he says it breathlessly, like it was something that fit right in, something apart of your weird routine. the rolling of your hips stutter, your entire body freezing rigid. you're both silent for a moment, then two, then too many.

“w-what?” you finally ask as if you didn't hear him. you heard him as clear as day, better than you’d ever heard anything before.

he lets his eyes open, heavy, wet lashes fluttering. he, too, knows you heard him.

“sorry,” he grouses. his normal stoicism, the front he puts on, seems to have slipped back into him. though, his apology means nothing. he doesn't know why, but it felt so right to say that, to love you. is this even love?

no, this is sex. that's what he's telling himself, because it's what you definitely think. you two try to avoid kissing, sometimes even eye contact to keep it from feeling too intimate or romantic. it's just sex. an excuse to get off without being alone or to blow off from some steam. this isn't love.

he wants it to be love.

how could this be love?

maybe it's actually always been love. maybe that's why he says those things about you, why he lets you treat him the way you do, why you two are even doing this in the first place.

“it's alright,” you mumble after far too long.

you go back to your efforts, but there's such a difference in the atmosphere that neither of you can deny. your whole body feels heavy, so does the air, so does everything. it's suffocating. you don't edge him anymore, don't say anything actually. you just let him cum.

his cock twitches inside of you, his head hung in a mix of shame and pleasure as the sticky white load spills inside you. and—maybe on accident, maybe on purpose—the words slip from his lips again:

“i love you.”

[winterarmyy]

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

[starreo]

pro hero! katsuki bakugo drabble .

being icky has never been hotter. includes insecurity on katsuki's side, fem! reader p in v in the last paragraph lol, and adult themes, so mdni!!

when he's just started dating you, katsuki feels so scared of holding your hand. he feels that if the sweat is icky to him, then it'll be icky to you. and for all katsuki is, he will never want you, out of everyone to think he's 'icky'.

so he shoves them in his deep pockets, trying to wipe off the sweat, hoping, maybe by the end of the date, he might be able to. but it doesn't help. the silk pockets make it worse and his hands are sweatier than before. so he just decides to grab you by your waist as he leads you back to your door.

that night katsuki goes home, happy about your present, but nervous about your future. what if he holds your hand on the next date? and what if you hate how wet it feels. what if he can just never touch you?

however, all of the silly questions in his silly head crumble, when you pout and complain about how the winter dries up your hands so much. and as he's about to make some comment, to mask up his insecurity, you grab his hands in yours. sheepishly murmuring about how he's so lucky to have a natural moisturizer, which keeps his hands so soft all the goddamn while!

and his breath hitches, and his heart beats louder.

ever since then, katsuki makes sure to hold your hand no matter what the two of you are doing. and each time he reaches out to grab it, he smiles, at his past self, who was worrying so much.

because now he doesn't just get to hold your hand out on dates to help you cross the road. he holds your hand on the table, when the two of you are eating at a fancy restaurant. he holds your hand in front of your family, grinning as your parents tease him about not being able to keep his hands off of you.

he holds your hand against the pillows, when his cock is buried deep inside your snug walls. intertwining his fingers with yours as he thrusts in and out of you, slow, but deep. his other hand caressing your bottom lip, as his finger hooks the corner of your gasping mouth, drool slipping out of it. katsuki chuckles as his fingers make contact with the sticky substance, who knew being icky could be this hot?

i come back and this is the first thing i write???? ALSO lolll all the confidence that i had at first about writing longer stuff flew away like a seagull with a bag of cheetos. idk why but recently I've been so obsessed with mha again.....ugh.

© starreo 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .